Light became indeed after that so intense that Strether would doubtless have but half made out, in the prodigious glare, by which of the two the issue had been in fact precipitated.
It was, in their contracted quarters, as much there between them as if it had been something suddenly spilled with a crash and a splash on the floor.
The form of his submission was to be an engagement to acquit himself within the twenty-four hours.
"He'll go in a moment if you give him the word—he assures me on his honour he'll do that": this came in its order, out of its order, in respect to Chad, after the crash had occurred.
It came repeatedly during the time taken by Strether to feel that he was even more fixed in his rigour than he had supposed—the time he was not above adding to a little by telling her that such a way of putting it on her brother's part left him sufficiently surprised.
She wasn't at all funny at last—she was really fine; and he felt easily where she was strong—strong for herself.
It hadn't yet so come home to him that she was nobly and appointedly officious.
She was acting in interests grander and clearer than that of her poor little personal, poor little Parisian equilibrium, and all his consciousness of her mother's moral pressure profited by this proof of its sustaining force.
She would be held up; she would be strengthened; he needn't in the least be anxious for her.
What would once more have been distinct to him had he tried to make it so was that, as Mrs. Newsome was essentially all moral pressure, the presence of this element was almost identical with her own presence.
It wasn't perhaps that he felt he was dealing with her straight, but it was certainly as if she had been dealing straight with HIM.
She was reaching him somehow by the lengthened arm of the spirit, and he was having to that extent to take her into account; but he wasn't reaching her in turn, not making her take HIM; he was only reaching Sarah, who appeared to take so little of him.
"Something has clearly passed between you and Chad," he presently said, "that I think I ought to know something more about.
Does he put it all," he smiled, "on me?"
"Did you come out," she asked, "to put it all on HIM?"
But he replied to this no further than, after an instant, by saying:
"Oh it's all right.
Chad I mean's all right in having said to you—well anything he may have said.
I'll TAKE it all—what he does put on me.
Only I must see him before I see you again."
She hesitated, but she brought it out.
"Is it absolutely necessary you should see me again?"
"Certainly, if I'm to give you any definite word about anything."
"Is it your idea then," she returned, "that I shall keep on meeting you only to be exposed to fresh humiliation?"
He fixed her a longer time.
"Are your instructions from Mrs. Newsome that you shall, even at the worst, absolutely and irretrievably break with me?"
"My instructions from Mrs. Newsome are, if you please, my affair.
You know perfectly what your own were, and you can judge for yourself of what it can do for you to have made what you have of them.
You can perfectly see, at any rate, I'll go so far as to say, that if I wish not to expose myself I must wish still less to expose HER."
She had already said more than she had quite expected; but, though she had also pulled up, the colour in her face showed him he should from one moment to the other have it all.
He now indeed felt the high importance of his having it.
"What is your conduct," she broke out as if to explain—"what is your conduct but an outrage to women like US?
I mean your acting as if there can be a doubt—as between us and such another—of his duty?"
He thought a moment.
It was rather much to deal with at once; not only the question itself, but the sore abysses it revealed.
"Of course they're totally different kinds of duty."
"And do you pretend that he has any at all—to such another?"
"Do you mean to Madame de Vionnet?"
He uttered the name not to affront her, but yet again to gain time—time that he needed for taking in something still other and larger than her demand of a moment before.
It wasn't at once that he could see all that was in her actual challenge; but when he did he found himself just checking a low vague sound, a sound which was perhaps the nearest approach his vocal chords had ever known to a growl.
Everything Mrs. Pocock had failed to give a sign of recognising in Chad as a particular part of a transformation—everything that had lent intention to this particular failure—affected him as gathered into a large loose bundle and thrown, in her words, into his face.
The missile made him to that extent catch his breath; which however he presently recovered.
"Why when a woman's at once so charming and so beneficent—"
"You can sacrifice mothers and sisters to her without a blush and can make them cross the ocean on purpose to feel the more and take from you the straighter, HOW you do it?"
Yes, she had taken him up as short and as sharply as that, but he tried not to flounder in her grasp.
"I don't think there's anything I've done in any such calculated way as you describe.
Everything has come as a sort of indistinguishable part of everything else.
Your coming out belonged closely to my having come before you, and my having come was a result of our general state of mind.
Our general state of mind had proceeded, on its side, from our queer ignorance, our queer misconceptions and confusions—from which, since then, an inexorable tide of light seems to have floated us into our perhaps still queerer knowledge.
Don't you LIKE your brother as he is," he went on, "and haven't you given your mother an intelligible account of all that that comes to?"